


november

by antoineroussel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Jewish Kent Parson, Jewish Tater, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Team as Family, Thanksgiving, also everyone's bi except bitty obvs, kent is an asshole but he's really trying, mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression, tater has a sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8703766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antoineroussel/pseuds/antoineroussel
Summary: Jack was ready, so ready. He'd never been more ready for anything, except maybe an NHL contract. He was so totally not ready at all. (Jack unwillingly hosts an American Thanksgiving dinner, and everything goes swell.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is super late, but i put a lot of Effort(tm) into it
> 
> some russian is used but it's mostly straightforward
> 
> hope you enjoy this Gay Shit!

"Who do you want to invite for Thanksgiving?" 

Jack did a double-take. "I thought Thanksgiving already passed?" 

"I mean American Thanksgiving, Jack. It's on the 25th, and I need to start planning," Bitty told him matter-of-factly, not one to mess around when it came to holidays, especially ones that involved baking. 

"Oh, uh. I don't know. Do you think any of the team could come down?" Jack really wasn't the greatest at going to parties, much less planning them. 

Bitty nodded. "Lardo and Ransom are free. The rest are mostly with family. It doesn't have to be huge and spectacular anyway, just a nice dinner, right?" 

- 

While he knew it didn't have to be huge or spectacular, he was disappointed (though not surprised) when the majority of his own teammates said they would be with their family that day. 

"I have never been to a Thanksgiving," Alexei said when he asked, while they were doing laps on the ice. "I am hearing good things, but I never get invite." 

Marty turned at that. "It's a holiday, Tater, but it's only celebrated in the US, so..." 

"Canada celebrates it too, just in October," Jack protested, only to be met with a horrified look from his teammate. Not that he was surprised by that either. Guy had also made it clear that the idea of a Canadian Thanksgiving was foreign to the majority of Americans. 

"I am living in America for a while! I know Thanksgiving, just never going to one," Alexei frowned. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at Jack. "It's family day, so I wouldn't get invite." 

Jack quieted, staring down at his skates. "Well, you're invited to this one. We're sort of family, right?" He smiled, just a bit. 

Alexei had his mouth open in a little 'o' before he grinned and nearly tackled Jack into the boards with a hug. "Good guy, Zimmboni. I will be there. Can I bring sister? Will I finally meet girlfriend?" 

"Yeah, of course," Jack squirmed in the taller man's grip, smiling but also wanting to be put down. "It'll be at my house, just so you know, on the 25th? Uh, you'll finally meet the guy who made the poppy seed cake you liked. Not girlfriend." 

Alexei nodded sagely and placed him back on the ice. "So boyfriend." 

"No, uh- well, I guess, kind of," Jack initially protested, then realized that Alexei might not have understood the full connotations of that, and even if he did, there'd be no reason for him to talk about it publicly. 

"Good, good. See you at Thanksgiving, Zimmboni!" 

Jack shook his head with a smile. 

- 

Later that night, he sat down with Bitty and told him that Alexei and his sister would be coming. 

"Anyone else you want to invite?" 

Jack scratched at a tiny stain on the dining table, face blank. "Maybe, I don't know." 

"Who?" Bitty hadn't noticed his vacancy quite yet. 

"Kent, maybe," He didn't look up, afraid to see some kind of judgment on his boyfriend's face. When he did finally look, Bitty had his hand under his chin, blinking at him. 

"Okay," he said, pronouncing it carefully as he wrote Kent's name on the little list he was making. "Okay, but you might want to call him now if he's going to have to fly up." 

Jack nodded, then groaned. Kent _would_ have to fly up, and Jack was sure he wouldn't go through all that just to go to a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by _him._ Kent didn't like him anymore, he was sure. He took out his phone, and even though he hated making calls, he didn't want to invite him by text. "Alright," he said, and let Bitty squeeze his hand before heading to the bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

He scrolled to Kent in his contacts and tapped call before he could get scared and back out. 

It rang thrice, then- 

"Jack," He nearly had an anxiety attack just hearing Kent's voice. He heard voices at first, probably from the TV, then the background noise silenced. 

"Hi, I was just calling because, you know, Thanksgiving is coming up, and Bitty and I are having a dinner that day, and I was going to ask if you wanted to come up. For the dinner." Jack cursed his nerves. 

"Why would you-" 

"I know, sorry, I won't bother-" 

"No, wait, fuck, I mean, you want me to come to Thanksgiving dinner?" He could almost hear Kent pinch the bridge of his nose. It didn't make him feel any better, and his chest tightened a bit. 

"Yeah, I just thought if you wanted, you could come up, and-" 

"Can you ask nicely?" The smug tone of it carried through the phone with a harsh edge, and Jack floundered for something to say, because he didn't want it to be like this again- with Kent only liking him when he was hurting. His eyes burned, and he was about ready to hang up after a moment of silence. "Shit," Kent hissed suddenly. "I'm such an asshole, sorry, _fuck._ I'll come, if you still want me to be there. I know you hate talking on the phone, thanks- um, thank you for calling." 

Jack wiped a few tears from his face. "I still want you there, Kenny." 

Kent let out a deep breath, crackling over the phone. "I don't know why." 

"I want to try again." 

Another beat. 

"Okay, Zimms. See you then. I'm sorry again." 

"Yeah." 

When he came down with red-rimmed eyes, Bitty pursed his lips to keep from scowling openly. "So Parse isn't coming?" 

"No, he is," Jack sat down next to him. 

Bitty, although surprised, didn't falter, and squeezed his hand again. "I'm glad." 

"Yeah." 

- 

Over the next week, Jack learned everything about cooking that he could possibly want to know, and even some things he didn't want to know. 

"This, Jack Zimmermann, is what happens when you buy canned cranberry sauce," Bitty had said, arms crossed over his chest while Jack poked the amorphous blob in front of him. 

"Who would do this?" Jack demanded. 

Bitty shook his head. "True injustice, horror!" 

They both made gagging noises, then Bitty laughed and kissed him. Jack was taken by surprise- would probably never get used to that- but pleased. "So what are we doing with the turkey?" 

"A maple glaze, duh. You and Ransom won't have it any other way." 

Jack shrugged. "Fair. I'll get the drinks and the chips, because you know they're all going to want to watch the game." 

"Which one?" 

"All of them," And they both nodded at that, knowing it was true. "Cornbread will be served though, yes?" 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

- 

Jack was ready, _so_ ready. He'd never been more ready for anything, except maybe an NHL contract. 

He was so totally not ready at all. 

Lardo and Ransom got to the house first, and that wasn't stressful. Not even one bit. Lardo pulled him into a nearly crushing hug, muttering something about how he smelled like money. Ransom brought a rice dish that was Mrs. Oluransi-approved and almost immediately did a somersault over the back of the couch to roll around on it. 

"Sorry, bro, but I'm claiming these seven square feet as my territory. No negotiations required." 

"I'm mostly good with that," Jack shrugged. "As long as it stays here, you can have it whenever you like." 

Almost immediately after that, there was a chime of the doorbell ringing. Bitty looked at him pointedly from the kitchen, but he shook his head. Kent would never use an ornate doorbell. 

Sure enough, when he opened the door, it was Alexei whom he saw first. Then a woman- well, a girl, really, but she was tall- with curly dark hair and a mirthful smile beside him. He knew it was Alexei's sister, so the only part that shocked him was the tattoo sleeves. And whatever was in her arms. 

"Zimmboni! Look at house, very snazzy. Meet _moya_ _sestra,_ Natasha. She is being big shot volleyball star," Alexei stepped in, ducking his head a bit, and his sister followed after him with a genuine, but tight smile. 

"Thank you for letting him drag me along, I love the holidays. I thought I might make knishes, since I heard potatoes are good for Thanksgiving?" Her English was heavily accented, but nicely structured and much more careful than her brother's. Jack looked back to see where room could be made for Natasha's dish, and instead found both Lardo and Ransom gaping. 

"Thank you, I can't wait to try them. I'm Jack, by the way, and this is-" Lardo stopped to give him a smoldering glare. "Lard- I mean, Larissa and Justin. Eric is in the kitchen baking. I'll take the food and put it down somewhere, if you don't mind? We're waiting on one more person." 

"Oh, of course," She looked like she was waiting for something, but then promptly handed him the ornate porcelain pan. The knishes smelled really good, even to Jack, who wasn't truly partial to any foods in particular. He quickly put it down on the kitchen counter, away from Bitty's work area. Speaking of Bitty, he had just put two pies in the oven and wiped his hands off to go meet Alexei and his sister. 

Ransom was starstruck between the two siblings, but he had gone to Alexei in the end, asking about his stick's flex or something. Lardo was admiring the artistry of Natasha's tattoos, and snapped a photo on her phone of both sleeves to send to Shitty. 

When Alexei noticed Bitty and Jack standing awkwardly to the side, he patted Ransom's head affectionately as a temporary farewell. "This is little baker! Tasha, I am telling you of the _rulet s makom_ he made. What is little baker's name?" 

Bitty looked a bit overwhelmed, but smiled wide. "Eric. Or Bitty." 

"Bitty! That is perfect! Very small, I get it," Alexei is absolutely delighted with this nickname, and also with himself for getting the perceived joke. It was sort of adorable, and even Jack could admit that. 

"My brother loves your poppy seed roll. His favourite as a kid," Natasha took his hands in hers with a bright smile, less tense than her earlier expression.  

Bitty's ears turned pink. "I actually made it again tonight for y'all to take home." 

Alexei stood at attention again when he heard that, and stepped closer to Bitty, dragging out an excited high pitched noise that Jack honestly had no idea he was capable of. It was predictable, however, that he then picked Bitty off the ground like he was a teddy bear and placed a chaste smooch on his temple. "Too good to us!"  

Bitty, for the most part, seemed fine with the affection. Surprised, but definitely fine. He didn't even ask to be put down like Jack sometimes did. It was a bit more of a strain to hold him than it was Eric. "I thought you'd like that," he said, giggling a bit and gracefully landing when the embrace loosened. 

Jack knew better than to feel jealous. He was sure that Alexei had kissed each one of his teammates on the mouth at least once (as for himself, he'd been kissed _a lot_ ,) sober or not. Ransom swung his arms over the back of the couch with a look of betrayal. Jack made a note to tell Tater after that he wanted a kiss too. 

Natasha opened her mouth to say something when a few hard knocks echoed through the living room. 

Jack swallowed hard when he heard it, but didn't hesitate to answer.  

Kent was right there, expression blank, with his hands in his pockets. He gave a small, cautious smile when Jack opened the door, went in for a hug but stopped himself. Squeezed Jack's arm instead. "Hey." 

"Hi, Parse," Jack greeted, not nearly as tense as he thought he'd be. Kent looked more afraid than he felt, and that was saying something. He suppose he knew more of what to expect. 

"I just- Wait, why is he here?" Kent pointed behind him, to Alexei, who frankly seemed excited even knowing who the mystery guest was. The first and only other time they'd met was when Alexei was cursing him out in Russian, so Jack mostly understood his apprehension. 

"Kent Parson! I'm sorry for saying you rat. I wasn't meaning. We friends off ice?" Alexei smiled and went to probably pick Kent up and swing him around, but his sister grabbed his arm with a pointed look. 

It looked like he really didn't know what to say, never having seen Tater outside of the ice rink before.  "Oh, uh, sure." 

"Don't worry, I saw it on the TV. He used to pick me up by the- the scruff- and call me a rat, too. But that was usually when I came home covered in mud," Natasha admitted, and she shook Kent's hand. He didn't resist, face softening at her words, and the smile came back a little. "Alyoshka?" She prompted him to do the same. 

He also shook Kent's hand, again with little resistance, but then pulled him forward to kiss his cheek with a little grin and a pat to the top of his head. It was sudden, but Kent only seemed vaguely stunned. Maybe a little embarrassed. 

Natasha groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alexei Fyodorovich Mashkov, you are a menace." 

"I am Russian, is what I'm here for." 

Kent smirked. "To kiss people, or to be a menace?" 

"A little both," Alexei returned the smug, lopsided smile. "Sit on my side at table." 

"Sure, but let me talk to Zimms first, yeah?" Kent said, Alexei waving him off and taking his sister's arm. Bitty gave Jack a pointed look, even as he shooed Lardo and Ransom to the dining room.  

Jack led Kent to the unlit, mostly unused office off to the side of the entryway. "I'm glad you could make it," he said, and he hated it when things meant earnestly came out sounding like something he'd say to reporters.  

Kent took a breath and squared his shoulders. "Jack, it's been radio silence since the kegster, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of that. I was hurt, and I said the stupidest shit I could think of to hurt you too, and I tried to call you later that night, because I couldn't believe I'd said all that then _left you alone,_ and I thought you might-" His voice broke, and Jack squeezed his shoulder, but let him go on. He really did want to hear Kent out. "Yeah. I just didn't think. I didn't mean any of it though, that's not how I wanted it to go- I just- I'm sorry." 

When Kent finally stopped, looked up at Jack expectantly, he felt bad giving an answer he knew Kent wouldn't want to hear. "I know," Jack replied calmly. "You should be. Sorry, I mean. I almost did, what you thought, but I didn't want to prove you right, I guess. And look where that got me." 

Kent's eyes widened. "Jack, that's-" 

"No, let me finish. I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I didn't sign with the Aces. I'm glad I went through rehab. I'm glad I went to Samwell, and graduated with a history degree, and I'm still glad you took a fucking flight up here for Thanksgiving dinner. I don't forgive you yet. Soon, okay? I'm trying, and I know you are too. That's all I can ask, just- you're here now. Enjoy the dinner. We'll be okay again. We will. Believe me?" Jack put both hands on his shoulders, keeping eye contact with him for the first time in literal years. 

Kent swallowed thickly. "Yeah. I believe you. Thanks. I just- fuck. That's one hell of a motivational speech," Jack scratched the back of his neck, and Kent blinked back tears even as he grinned. "Almost makes up for no corned beef!" 

"Ew," Jack deadpanned. They walked back into the light and made their way to the table, both rolling their eyes. He blanched internally as he saw that the head of the table was going to be him. To his left, Bitty, Ransom, and Lardo. To his right, an empty chair for Kent, then Alexei and Natasha. It made him feel a bit better when he realized what a small, tight-knit group it was. 

Alexei, however, seeing them walk up, frowned. He said something in Russian to his sister, who looked their way with a raised eyebrow. She said something back, and he stood up. 

"Kent Parson, _mishonok,_ " he started, putting his arms out as he walked closer to Kent. "Your leg is..." 

Natasha stood as well, whispered something to Bitty, and went to the refrigerator. She had a strange, narrow look in her eyes. "He means, you are limping." 

"Where is hurt?" Alexei continued, clearly a bit annoyed at the correction. 

Kent blinked, like he was surprised anyone would notice something like that. "I'm just sore," he mumbled. Not flushed, but clearly ruffled. "Hard game on Sunday." 

"Sunday? Bah! Hurt should not last to today, not at a Thanksgiving," Alexei shook his head and put a light hand on Kent's thigh. That got him a pained shudder, and he frowned at the reaction. "I not picking you up if it hurt more, come, _sidet_ _._ " 

Kent wasn't in the position to argue, and with the pain, he most likely didn’t want to. So he walked, with copious (probably unnecessary) help from Tater, to his seat. Jack squinted, amused. Kent never was one to turn down a healthy dose of fawning, with the subject being himself. Natasha came back with a cold pack from the fridge and tutted as her brother wrapped it around Kent's thigh with a gentle pat for good measure. 

"Ice immediately next time," Natasha scolded, snatching the hat off of his head and ruffling his hair like they were good friends. Kent didn't seem perturbed, smiled a little and looked up at her, only slightly sheepish. 

"Will do," he said. He probably wouldn't, if Jack knew anything about him. But he seemed genuine. He was glad all eyes were on Parse when he sat down, because just being at the head of the table made it feel like everyone was staring at him. "Anyway, Tater, what did you call me earlier?" 

Natasha raised a brow once again, looking to Ransom as if she was sharing a lecherous secret with him. She didn't say anything, but Ransom still swooned. 

"Mouse! Much better than rat, yes?" 

Kent gave him a withering look. "Rat sounds cooler though. Like I'm Splinter, or maybe Brad Marchand." 

Lardo, the only Bruins fan at the table, choked on her soda. 

Alexei frowned, confounded, but didn't question it. " _Krysa_ isn't a cool word though. _Mishonok_ , much better sound." 

Kent leaned back, stiff with the ice around his leg. "True." 

Natasha gave a disbelieving look. She shook her head and mouthed something to Jack, and he guessed that it was somewhat akin to 'can we get this show on the road?'. He had to concede. 

"Alright, there's a lot of food to get through before and during the game, so I'll carve the turkey if someone else wants to say something inspiring?" Bitty snorted at his directness. He got out of his seat, along with Natasha, to begin bringing over food. 

The pies weren't perfect yet, and would probably be brought out when they'd moved to the living room, so only savory items were brought over. 

"Maple," Ransom gasped when he saw the turkey. "You shouldn't have!" 

Jack rolled his eyes and picked up the slightly disconcerting electric blade to use. It turned out not to be as difficult as he thought, slicing easily as idle chatter filled the silence. After that, he sat down, and given that nobody had stepped up to hold hands or profess undying devotion to hockey, he gave what he hoped to be a vague 'have at it' gesture. 

Everyone understood. 

Soon, all plates were filled with turkey, cornbread, brussel sprouts, and everything else Bitty had so artfully prepared with barely any help at all. Jack kissed his temple before starting to eat. He deserved so much, and Jack was so thrilled he got to be the one to provide that. 

Kent gasped as he opened the nice porcelain dish, almost like Ransom, but more genuine. "Knishes? Holy shit. Holy actual shit. I have not had these since I was like, fifteen. Who-" 

"Us," Natasha told him, curt but not unkind. "Don't talk about not eating them, just eat them!" Alexei patted his back heartily. 

Kent didn't protest. He looked near tears again, but also like he was biting down on a smile. That wasn't like him, usually, but Jack knew why. It wasn't an easy smile, like the ones when someone told a joke or said he should have been a model. Kent smiling the way he wanted to then was something a person had to earn. And the siblings apparently had done that, because when they both softened and Alexei squeezed the back of his neck like a comfort, he stopped resisting. It was a pretty dorky smile, all in all, but it was more than the smooth ones reporters got. 

Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd seen that smile. 

Alexei paused and looked around before clearing his throat. "I supposed to say things before we eating, but I'm being hungry, so I cheat little. Um, I'm not best at English. Please bear. I am just wanting to thank Jack for invite? I tell him never been to a Thanksgiving, and he is still saying I can come. And I can bring _moya sestra,_ " He punches Natasha in the shoulder. "I'm thinking I'm be embarrassing! I am, most times, so. But now I feel like maybe I am supposed to be invite. And I'm just wanting to say, Jack is good teammate and better friend. Also that his boyfriend makes good food. That all," Alexei gave a tight, grimacing smile, then sat down. Bitty seemed vaguely amused, but Jack himself pinched the bridge of his nose. He was flattered, but Tater could be a bit too open with his words. Kent looked between Bitty and Alexei like he was going to have an aneurysm, but the frantic edge in his eyes lessened quickly. 

"Here, here," he grinned, tapped his glass with a spoon. "To second and third chances. And to Jack, I guess." 

Jack snorted. All eyes were on him, but he didn't feel anxious. Lardo gave him the toothiest smile he'd ever seen, and Ransom, with God's grace, kept his whooping to a minimum. "Okay, okay, don't look at me like that. Eat your damn non-dietician-approved cornbread," A laugh echoed around the table. 

After a few moments of companionable silence and chewing, Kent apparently got fed up. "So who here likes to suck dick?" 

Ransom choked. Jack nearly slid under the table where no one could see him. Bitty shook his head, giving Jack an arched eyebrow that suggested he brought this upon himself. 

Alexei seemed, as usual, enthused. "Ooh, me!" 

"Jesus, Alexei you don't know what that means-" 

Natasha pinched his arm hard. "Sucking dick is definitely not kosher." 

"It is! If boy is Jewish. Yakov tell me." 

"Yakov tell you that so you'd suck his dick," Natasha snapped back, as Lardo struggled not to let out a _visible_ disgusting giggle honk. Jack could tell she desperately wanted to post this on Twitter. 

Alexei shrugged, shoving a slice of turkey into his mouth. "Would have done anyways." 

His sister squawked indignantly. 

Kent, on the other hand, was cracking up. "Oh my god, that is- this is too great for my small mind to even... _begin_ to comprehend, oh jeez," He could barely wheeze it out. 

"I could tell," Bitty deadpanned, and that made Kent laugh harder. 

"And I thought you guys were all squares, holy shit, too good," Parse continued to laugh at his discovery for a while, winding down before starting back up when he was reminded of it. Alexei rolled his eyes, but bumped his shoulder good-naturedly. Once the fit was really over, Kent joined the rest of the table in continuing to eat. "Hey, I get it though," he said to Alexei. "I'm Jewish too." 

The Russian man did a bit of a double-take. "I would never guess. Manners horrible." 

"You shut your mouth," They bumped shoulders again, and Kent stabbed at his brussel sprouts with a quirked lip.  

"So, Natasha," Bitty started. "What school do you go to?" 

"Brown University," And they all choked this time. "I play volleyball there." 

Ransom leaned over the table, squinting like he'd find a lie somewhere if he looked hard enough. And also like he needed his glasses, which was probably true. "What do you major in?" 

"Anthropology," She struggled over the word, almost abashed. "I like museums." 

Now that, Jack could comment on. "Me too. I was a history major when I went to Samwell. It's a solid thing, doesn't really change much, eh?" Natasha nodded. 

Tater turned his gaze to Bitty, nodding to him just a bit. "What is little baker doing after college?" 

Bitty shrugged. "I don't know. I'm okay on a school team, but I'm a bit _too_ little for even the AHL. And I don't know if I'd wanna play professional. Just not sure yet." 

"Open bakery! Jack will pay, I know him, as long as he is getting cupcakes. Intern bring cupcakes, he is eating half of them. We all starve," Alexei mourned. 

"Tater, I ate three." 

" _Half._ " 

Bitty smiled incredulously at Jack's flush, but continued addressing Alexei. "What kind of cupcakes?" 

"Strawberry, which is funny word for _klubnika,_ not even shaped like a straw," he replied. 

"I guess I know what to make for your birthday then!" Bitty laughed, locking his fingers with Jack's when he got the chance. It seemed that he wasn't too worried about the Mashkovs and Parse knowing about their relationship, because if there was any doubt before, there was none then. Lardo pretended to gag. Jack, once less enamored, switched his gaze to Kent, even then reflexively looking for his approval. His expression was blank at first, but he searched Jack's face and grinned at whatever he found. 

"You sappy shits," he said accusatorily. "Unbelievable. I could be eating pie right now." 

Bitty rolled his eyes, but it was good-natured. "Uh-uh. The table has to be cleared before _anyone_ gets pie," Both Ransom and Tater were up before he'd even finished his sentence. 

"We'll get it," Ransom offered, ruffling Bitty's hair. "Tater and I are gonna be like, holiday bros." 

Alexei nodded sagely and accepted Ransom's fist bump request with surprisingly little awkwardness. "Bros," he repeated in agreement. 

"Okay, well if y'all wanna hang out in the living room before the game," Bitty didn't finish that sentence, but made a 'get on' gesture, which was basically just as good. 

They all went to flop into various seats. Jack and Bitty at the loveseat, Lardo by herself as usual in the recliner (her favorite- as evidenced by the amount of gum stuck to the bottom of it,) while Natasha and Kent sat stiffly on the leather couch, waiting for the other two to shoulder in beside them. 

After a moment of awkward silence with a muted NHL Insider clip on the TV, Natasha nudged Kent. 

"What," he said quietly. 

"Watch this," she replied, dimples popping as she gave a sly smile. She took a deep breath and attracted the attention of the others, including Lardo, who took out her phone to record the legendary events about to take place. "What team?" Natasha shouted towards the kitchen. 

"Wildcats!" Alexei yelled it back like he couldn't stop if he tried. 

The entire house nearly _died._  

Natasha probably laughed the hardest. "Every time! He can't help it, really." 

"Priceless," Kent snickered. 

They settled back into silence eventually, but it took a while, and this one was significantly more comfortable than the previous one. 

When Ransom and Tater were done cleaning up, they both flopped on the sofa, Alexei by Kent and Ransom by Natasha. Bitty then got up to put the finishing touches on his pies while they waited for a worthwhile game to watch. 

In the meantime, Kent and Alexei huddled close. Jack knew from personal experience that Tater's warm, solid presence was unsurpassed in comfort. Cellies usually involved too much padding and sweat to be enjoyed in a physical sense, but Tater was always looking for pre and post-game Under Armour-clad hugs in the locker room.  

Bitty brought an array of pies and plates when he came back, and Jack would have been surprised at the amount he was able to carry, but Bitty had told him about a waiting job he had in high school- or as he liked to say- _back at_ _Café_ _Hell, we used to..._ Now he held four pies and seven plates like it was nothing. 

Pumpkin, pecan, blackberry, and Dutch apple. He'd played it fairly safe, but classy. 

"Berry is favorite," Alexei announced, promptly cutting into the blackberry pie as soon as it had been set down. "Which you three want?" He addressed his couchmates primarily. 

Natasha wanted blackberry and pumpkin, Ransom pointed to apple and pecan (but promised to get seconds,) and Kent just wanted apple. Alexei patted them all on the head like they were rambunctious children who, despite being menaces, were cute enough to deserve ice cream. 

Lardo noticed that a game was starting before anyone else, so she turned the volume up while everybody else got settled. 

"I swear to God, if any of you jump up and drop pie on Jack's couch, you're all banned from it," Bitty announced, even as he nestled under Jack's arm. 

"That's fair," Kent said, mirroring him and doing the same with Alexei.  

"Of course it is," Ransom replied, shoving his fork into his mouth. "Bitty knows best. The Samwell Men's Hockey team lives by W-W-E-R-B-D. What would Eric Richard Bittle do? It's true." 

"Y'all are the worst."

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me abt real or fake hockey @ antoineroussel.tumblr.com


End file.
